Dosa Adebayo Abel is in the house to create something new for all.
The poet community has been on the hands of mediocre publishers who
can't evn comprehend what it means to scribble a line, stanza.
SO, this forum creates an avenue for the poets to rate themselves,
correct errors and give advice on how to do it better.

Real passionate writers just want to see their work in prints
BUt not minding the cheese that comes with it.

LETS START.


LOVE ABUSE
Dad, meet my fiancee
Have you done a blood test
Yes dad, we need rest
What about the hIV test
Dad! don't be a pest
And the fertility test
Stop this lest,
Lest what? you can't come here with a ridiculous quest
We have tried our best
I expected a terrific zest
Stop your jest
Have you done the sanity test
I am taking her to her nest
I am not finished yet
It is like we are going east and you west
Leave and forget my consent
Dad it is hard enough to find a girl who loves you
It is even harder to pass this tests.

------------Dosa Abel-------------------------

You have a good write up. Very funny. The message is clear.

i can cut through the hatred like a piece of cake
unjustified is your thirst for blood and ache.
you lurk in the shadows as you predate on your bait,
the scream from your victims makes my skin crawl and quake.

ruthless, endless, the emotional trauma
brought on by your unnecessary drama
you devastate souls, millions by every hour
unperturbed, unshaken, not even by karma

the cries for the blood that its forced to drink'
hoping, maybe you might just have a rethink
like the biblical pharaoh you refuse to blink
as you perpetrate your injustice till hope is extinct

justice justice, why art thou so still?
drenched in the stench of your shady deal
betrayal from you is like the devils pill
flies you straight for a "hellish" ordeal

soothing, calming, it comes to me like an effulgence
knowing your days are numbered amongst us
our bones shall rise to end this chaos
your sins like a boulder shall crush you into shambles
then you'll regret refusing to hear us

I am a struggling writer I guess. Below is something I wrote a while ago, but I have 100's of others that might be of same quality or a bit better. All of my work is copywritten, but I'm unsure of what to do from here. Can anyone give me a hand?

There’s a place I've found where no man stands conflicted,
Free of the damage these sins have inflicted,
Unbound from these ropes labeled "evil and wicked",
If not only in my dreams I wish this place existed.
Cause there is no balance to there reality and my sense of fiction,
So this story's torn in half, I'll read if you listen.

When he was a boy there were dreams of fame and fortune,
Despite a drunk for a dad, this reality he was born in.
A dream to write a book, but his father’s words tore him,
"When you show me a check, I'll believe you're a writer."
The day I ran away with nothing, the future never looked brighter.

I grabbed what I could and struggled to survive,
Nevermind the lack of food, I never felt more alive.
And through these eyes, it was clear some parts of me died,
And I wonder sometimes, if you ever believed your own lies.

You never understood "fortune" held for me a different meaning,
To be content with this life, no drinking or need of verbal beatings.
Penniless and under stars sleeping, I hope someday these words have you thinking,
The same way you did to me, in my youth you deceived me.

I wanted to be like you, to defend people of this country,
A 20 year man with a peaceful deployment to Germany,
15 of those telling lies, filling young mens minds with greed.
You praised the notion of being "just like your old man",
Believing in your bullshit, it wasn't long before I heard from Uncle Sam.

You called it "great money", I called it Iraq,
After one tour of affliction, I promised to never go back.
So I did every drug I could for them to kick me out,
The truth in black and white, you read it here and now,
The embarrassment to your legacy, my patriotic doubt.

You fired many weapons, but at targets with no eyes,
It only took one bullet to call out every old mans lie.
Now I'd slit my own throat to change timing and dates,
Because hell holds a special place for the one sin I made,
And my fate is sealed from an alcoholics mistakes.
I was too young, naive, but now I can admit it,
You should switch me tickets, in heaven vodkas not permitted.

You ask now why I live my life in woods of isolation,
"You can always re-enlist full time, fight for your great nation,"
If I could afford the gasoline, I'd burn every recruiting station.
I live off the land now, cause I'd rather not be included,
By the laws of mortal men, or temptations they are glued in,
I'd rather be an Indian, before we burned their culture to ruins,
I apologize if my guilty conscience seems to be such a nuisance,
It's easier to banish a son with his regrets in seclusion.

I'll spend my time left preaching right and wrong,
Now that I know the difference, you might not like the end of my song,
I know that there's only one judge when it’s all said and done,
I know sleep comes easier for you cause you didn’t hold that gun.
I know to treat strangers better than even best of friends,
To be a part of their happiness, part of every helping hands lend,
Because only in selflessness can we make our amends.
From a father to a drunk, did any of this make sense?
Before you leave this world I hope you at least peak over this fence,
To see your sons dream unfold and finally commence,
But you killed it with your liquored breath, and to me you're already dead,
And to save others from my fate, I'll read these words to every friend.


Alex Stone